


to have and to hold

by saintbvcky



Category: Defending Jacob (TV 2020), Knives Out (2019)
Genre: Andy Barber smut, Cheating Fic, Cuckolding, F/M, Revenge fic, consensual cheating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-16 07:27:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29572467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saintbvcky/pseuds/saintbvcky
Summary: Andy gets to exact revenge on his younger twin brother after years of having significant others stolen from him.
Relationships: Andy Barber / Reader, Andy Barber/You, Ransom Drysdale / You, Ransome Drysdale / Reader
Comments: 3
Kudos: 37





	to have and to hold

**Author's Note:**

> warnings: NSFW/18+ ONLY, unreciprocated sexual tension/need/want between ransom and reader, sibling rivalry, consensual infidelity/cuckolding (it’ll make sense i promise), smutsmutsmutsmutsmut, blowjob, badly written footjob, ruined orgasm, sorta dominant sorta alpha reader? (no a/b/o dynamics tho), choking kink so small you’ll miss it if you blink, idk i really tried lol. i’ve tinkered with the formatting god knows how many fucking times, so if there’s any mistakes i’m sorry. || note: idk what the fuck i was thinking with this but then again my brain doesn’t make sense most days. god bless @punani for enabling me. i dedicate this entire thing to her, for without her this probably wouldn’t have ever left my brain and remained a weird fantasy. anyway, ransom and andy are twins in this. || note no.2: i was working on this for the past couple of weeks for hours while ignoring all of my other impending responsibilities, so some reblogs and feedback would be super appreciated! dividers are

_Sibling rivalry.  
_

_Cain and Abel._

_Feud._

_Jealousy._

_Tug of war._

Call it whatever, the relationship between Andy and Ransom was always a complicated one. Between them, Andy was the older twin by a solid two minutes. He came into the world a quiet, brooding, pensive baby. Much unlike his older brother, Ransom was born screaming and crying his lungs out, determined to make his presence known to everyone who cared to listen. The nurses had joked that Ransom would be the bigger handful of the two boys to their mother, and she couldn’t have been more correct. Well, to a point. 

Their family dynamic wasn’t doomed to a perpetual tango of rivalry from the get go. To Ransom’s credit, he was quite kind to his older brother. Always following Andy around, wanting to watch how his brother led by example. They played together quite often, tracking dirt and mud throughout the big house much to their parent’s chagrin. Aside from their typical sibling mishaps, their sibling relationship was pretty normal. 

It wasn’t until their young adult years that the relationship started going in the other direction. Where Ransom was revelling in the attention he got from girls from being loud and metaphorically throwing the weight of his presence around, Andy took to minding his own business. The future lawyer was rather shy and awkward around other girls their age, something Ransom took any chance he got to make fun of. It wasn’t like Andy was a bad looking guy, but approaching a girl while next to his brother was always a guaranteed miserable experience. He could never keep their attention long enough to prevent them from falling for whatever it was that Ransom had, and he didn’t. 

_Boring._

_Prude._

_Lame._

Those were just some of the nicknames Ransom would use on Andy the older they got. When Andy would come home from law school for the holidays, his younger brother would visibly seethe because of the attention he wasn’t getting. It wasn’t like he planned on doing anything grand with his life. He was fine with the way things were, living off of his family’s wealth while Andy was off building his own. Andy would put up with the name calling and back handed compliments from his brother, knowing he would never admit that he was a jealous motherfucker hellbent on making his life hell. 

It wasn’t until that one particular New Year’s Eve party that Andy decided to stop talking to his brother entirely. Newly licensed and newly minted assistant district attorney, he had been dating a rather nice girl from their hometown and brought her to the family party his parents insisted on having. Thinking it was going to be a family affair, he was only slightly shocked to see his family had invited nearly everyone they knew and then some to the party. Alcohol and delicately plated hors d'oeuvres floating to guests every which way, guests all trussed up in their fancy outfits that had cost more than Andy’s initial car.

He was by his girlfriend-at-the-time’s side the whole time, always on the lookout, always prepared to defend himself against whatever bullshit Ransom would happen to conjure up. He reluctantly lets her go when she offers to refill their drinks upon noticing they were empty. He knew that Ransom always liked to lurk around where the alcohol was nearest.

To Andy’s credit, he didn’t immediately panic when a few minutes passed and he still hadn’t seen a sign of his girlfriend anywhere. It wasn’t until he finished coming back from taking a work call outside that she still hadn’t sought him out, and that’s when he started to worry. 

He goes down a hallway, where another guest had said they had seen her. A predictable yet uneasy feeling forms in Andy’s stomach. A ringing in his ears shortly consumes his senses, triggering his fight or flight response when he hears the all too familiar giggles and that god awful laugh he knows all too well.

As he opens the door abruptly, he doesn’t know whether or not to feel all that shocked at the sight before him. His girlfriend, who had been at the mercy of Ransom’s mouth between her legs, pushes him off and scrambles to make herself decent. Ransom is shocked only for a few seconds before he looks at Andy, a smirk on his face as he wipes off the arousal from his lips with his thumb. 

“Sorry big man, just too good to pass off the chan–” 

There’s a scream from Andy’s girlfriend, begging Andy to stop as he lands a punch right on Ransom’s nose. He yelps, holding his face as the copper trickles down his nose and past his lips. He shrugs his girlfriend’s hands off his shoulders abruptly, his glare metaphorically burning Ransom with the fire of a thousand incandescent suns. He’s seething. He wants to say something, anything. Insult his younger brother so bad that no amount of aloe vera could cure the burn for weeks to come. But he’s sure his brother will laugh at him anyway, as he always does.  
  
Andy and his girlfriend leave the party abruptly without saying goodbye to anyone. The original plan had been for her to stay at his place, but Andy just takes her straight to her own home and breaks up with her that very night. Despite her tears and most likely innocence, he couldn’t deal with any of Ransom’s bullshit anymore, especially when she had been so compliant to it. 

“Did you enjoy it?” He asked, keeping his distance from her while standing by the door of her apartment. 

She was crying hysterically, makeup a rightful mess not only from Ransom ruining it, but now this as she’s confronted with the mistake of having betrayed Andy’s trust. She shakes her head, swearing to him that she didn’t mean it. But she had taken a second too long to answer for Andy’s liking, and it had told him everything he needed to know. 

Had his brother been any different, Andy would’ve considered otherwise in regards to cutting all contact with his brother. But not even an intervention from his family could stop him from doing so. He was tired of being ridiculed, tired of being his brother’s keeper, exhausted and exasperated in leading by example when Ransom was going to do whatever the fuck he wanted anyway without taking anyone’s feelings into consideration. 

Ransom could go fuck himself for all he cared.

Andy wasn’t a big fan of attending work parties of any kind, especially when they involved the holidays. He hadn’t been for a long time, for obvious reasons. But this was work related, and his boss practically begged him to go after he had already dodged so many invitations to previous dinner parties throughout his years at the District Attorney’s office. 

It’s been a long time for him, being in a setting like this. It’s not like he had trouble interacting with any of his coworkers and their plus ones. They all liked him and he liked them in return. They all had a good working relationship, but none of them really hung out together outside of work. He figured he intimidated the hell out of people too much for them to want to talk to him beyond work anyway, what with the perpetual brooding look on his face. 

The music is flowing as freely as the booze is, but he’s always careful not to get hilariously and tragically drunk at these kinds of things. He liked to do that in the privacy of his own home, as a kind of reward for having to put up with the things he had to deal with in and out of the courtroom. 

He’s pensive, as always, swirling the dark bourbon in his glass as he’s leaning back against the bar. He’s not really paying attention to the conversation happening in front of him. He got ensconced into it somehow, but he zoned out somewhere in between a discussion of what gifts his coworkers had to purchase and what travel plans they were making in time to visit their families for the actual Christmas holidays. 

Andy looks up as he’s taking a sip of bourbon, looking for the person that called out his name to get his attention. He sees his boss walking over with someone in tow, an accomplished smile on her kindly aged face. His eyes float over to the person walking with her, and he nearly chokes and dribbles whiskey all over the front of his suit. He had seen plenty of beautiful women throughout his life, but he was pretty sure none of them compared to the woman that greeted the people he had been mostly listening to just now. 

If he had sore eyes, you were truly a sight to heal them. He hadn’t noticed you then, but he definitely did now. The classy black velvet dress hugged your curves in all the right places, and the tasteful makeup that looked like you stepped out of a French film suited your brown skin beautifully. You introduced yourself, putting out a hand for him to shake and he does so. It feels like his brain short circuits in the brief moment that your hands touch, and for the first time for what felt like in decades, Andy finds himself blushing again. He offers only a sheepish smile under your knowing, playful smirk. 

The two of you don’t really get to speak personally beyond the group conversation for the rest of the night. He catches bits and pieces of your accent (which he secretly loves but won’t admit to), and confidently deduced that you’re not a Boston native. It’s the way you say New York that has the blood rushing to his face all over again. He won’t admit to it, but when everyone breaks off to sit at their respective dinner tables to finally eat, he’s more than glad to have you sitting across him. 

Everyone’s eating dinner, laughing loudly and drinking in between bites. But you? There’s an unspoken communication with the way you hold his attention with just your eyes. His eyes following the way your hands delicately hold the cutlery, dark festive nail polish glinting as you cut into the steak. He swallows thickly when your sparkling eyes look into his soul, red painted lips delicately taking in the piece of steak and chewing thoughtfully. 

Oh, you were ready to eat him alive and he was more than glad to let you do it. 

At some point, the guests start to leave one by one, prompting you to say your own goodbyes. The cold Massachusetts air pricks at your legs, the only part of your body not covered by the sleek wool coat shielding you. You wiggle your fingers and smile, returning the goodbyes said to you by your new colleagues. You’re browsing on the ride share app on your phone, when Andy calls your name.  
  
“Andy, hi again.” You chuckle and god does the sound of your laugh make him stupid for you. 

“Hey, again.” He gives you the most charming smile he could think of. At least he hoped it was. He realizes he didn’t think this far ahead, shoving his hands into his coat pockets and bounces on the balls of his feet, trying to think of something to say. 

“Did you need something?” You asked, feigning innocence. 

He’s about to speak when the ride share you ordered pulls up right to where you’re standing. The dejection comes quickly to him, realizing he’s losing the chance equally as fast to possibly keep the spark going. You walk over, confirming the ride is for you with the driver before opening the door to the back seat. Half expecting Andy to follow, you turn to face him and nod over as if asking him to join you. He quickly follows you into the back seat. 

As if by instinct, you place a hand on Andy’s thigh, making him look at you. He opens up his arm and you easily slot into his side, tucking your face into his ear to whisper all the dirty things you wanted him to do to you while lightly rubbing his thigh with your thumb. His fingers dig into the side of your hip, and the feel of your lips curling against the pulse of his neck make his heart race even further. 

To the cab driver, the two of you looked like a couple in love and it makes him chuckle. 

Most women did not think that they did not hold the power when going down on a man. But then again, you were not most women. 

You had Andy at your mercy while you were between his legs. He fights between keeping his eyes closed and looking at the way the length of him disappears into your warm and wet mouth. He lost track of how long you had been teasing him now, but he was sure that it was far too long. 

He’s a moaning, desperate mess, choking out your name like some debauched praise with the way your tongue laved at him. He feels like royalty, head resting in one of his hands while the other cradles your head, encouraging you to take more of him. You take him like a champ, your throat constricting around the head of him slightly and it makes his hips jerk, praising how good you are at making him feel. He takes a moment to appreciate the feel of your throat before he has to let you breathe, and seeing the flush across your skin and the way your chest undulates trying to regain your breath sparks a special kind of desire for you. 

You’re a powerful woman, he knows, but the way you’re looking at him all doe eyed, a look that lets him know is only reserved for him makes him shiver. He swipes his thumb across your lips, letting out a hum when your lips circle around the tip of his thumb until he takes it out, connected to your lips by a thin trail of your saliva. He feels consumed by you when he looks into your eyes, and again he’s reminded of how captivating you are to him when he can’t break his eyes from yours as you spit into your hand, taking a hold of his cock again and begin working him, slightly squeezing him here and there just like you can tell he likes.  
  
You nod at him to lean back on the couch. His gravelly sighs are music to your ears when you take him into your mouth again. You don’t tease him this time. You take all of him in until the tip of him reaches the back of your throat again, and it knocks the air from his lungs when you caress and palm the rest of him. It makes him hiss and his core tighten when you swallow, he’s sure he was going to explode down your throat or all over your face if you kept teasing him the way you did. Only for a second does he regret pulling your mouth off of him when you look at him with a confused expression. 

“Come here.” He gruffs, pulling you up until you’re on his lap straddling him. He’s desperate to feel your skin on his, have the comforting weight of you on him as he massages his hands all over you while you play with his thick brown hair. He massages the soft fullness of your hips before roughly digging his fingers into the suppleness. His free hand snakes in between your legs, enjoying how your whole body shivers as he snugly slipped his finger, then another one to collect the arousal. His brows raise as a curiosity sparkles in his eyes. He smirks at you like he just discovered something. 

“This all for me?” He drawls, letting his accent peek out. 

You bite your lip and nod, grinding your hips when he starts curling two of his fingers in you and easily finding that soft part of your walls that has your jaw going slack. Licking your lips, you learn forward with hands on his broad shoulders and whisper in his ear, 

“That’s what sucking your cock does to me.” Your hand finds his own, encouraging his thick fingers to go deeper, “that’s how much it turns me on.” 

Andy groans and turns his face to capture your plush lips in a heated kiss. He doesn’t give a fuck nor does he think about the fact that your lipstick is smeared all over him now. He swallows all your moans, especially the one that chokes you up when he thumbs your clit. 

“That’s it, baby.” He coos, digging the fingers of his free hand into your backside, encouraging you to ride his fingers, “cum on my fingers. I know you can.” 

The first orgasm Andy gets from you licks through your body like a white hot flame. Goosebumps cover your skin as you come all over his fingers, but instead of coming down from your high you feel feral. You cup his face with your hands, slotting your lips against his to take what you can from him, take all he’s willing to give you. Your tongues fight each other for dominance, and he manages to catch you off guard when he suddenly slaps your ass after you grind yourself on him, slicking him up with your arousal. 

“I want you, right now.” You growl, throwing your head back when he takes turns playing with each of your hard, brown nipples. The sensation of his tongue and his rough hands on your full breasts is almost too much to bear. 

“Yeah? You want this cock?” He asks, his blue eyes sparkling with lascivious enthusiasm. 

You furrow your brows, nearly shocked to righteous indignation that he’d ask you such a thing. You’re normally not as invested in sex with anyone as you currently are with Andy, but there’s a thought in the back of your mind you think to indulge in. 

“You.” You repeat, pushing a thumb into his lips slowly, feeling his mouth licking and sucking at it like he was with your nipples. He lets go of it as he turns his face, kissing the inside of the palm cradling his face and nibbling at it while he looks at you. “I want _you_ , Andy.” 

With your help, he aligns himself and slowly slides home into you. The feel of your slick, velvety walls putting up the slightest resistance is enough to make him come right then and there, but he restrains himself, letting you get used to the feel of him once you fit snugly around him. He appreciates the feel of you, how you seem to fit and adjust to him in more ways than your walls around his dick. It’s the way your body feels with his own as he meets your thrusts. 

At first, they’re slow and deep. His hands scramble to feel all of you as much as he can before being wrapped up in your arms and cradled against your chest. Despite this being the first time, the two of you move like you had slept with each other hundreds of times. Like your body knows his and his knows yours. There’s a natural fluidity between you two, wordlessly communicating what felt good and what felt even better. 

He’s pretty sure he’s never felt like this before, and neither have you. 

With his thrusts becoming more desperate and his fingers finding your clit again, he has you gasping his name like you’re in desperate need of water. He’s cooing to you how good you feel around him, how you’re doing such a good job at taking everything he has to give you, how beautiful you look just like this. It spurs you on to meet his own frantic thrusts, the sounds of sweaty skin slapping against each other filling in the spaces left empty by the grunts and whimpers being pulled from the both of you. 

You know you’re close when your legs start to shake and cramp up. He’s close too, chanting your name like it’s the last hail mary he’ll ever say before his soul ascends to somewhere he might not be able to come back from. Andy’s determined to make you come first. He wants to receive all you can give to him before taking everything he needs from you. 

“Come on baby, I’ve got you.” His breath is hot against your ear, making you shiver. He’s making you feel so good, but it’s not enough to make you careen over the precipice of that cliff. Your eyes burn into his stormy blue ones as you take his hand and slide it from your chest until his calloused fingers are circling your neck. He takes the hint immediately, squeezing just enough that has your eyes rolling back to the back of your head as you finally let go, pulling a loud groan from you as you come violently around him. It doesn’t take long for him to chase his own high, holding your body as it shivers from the way his climax coats your walls. 

Andy doesn’t know why he’s all that surprised when you capture his lips in a kiss after a welcome silence, but he revels in it all the same. Your lips feel right against his own, you feel right as he holds you and you hold him. He knows he doesn’t want this to stop just yet, so he carries you to your master bedroom where he makes you see stars for the third time that night. 

Neither of you know what time it really is when the two of you are finally done making love to each other. It’s late, that’s all he knows. He appreciates the feel of the bedsheets, how they feel like the softest silk on his skin. You’re mostly propped up by all the pillows, limbs tangled together as he rests his head on your chest. The way he hums sleepily as you play with his hair and the feel of his arms around you makes you smile a bit, even more so when he traces mindless patterns on your dewy skin. 

“I can hear you thinking loudly, you know.”

There’s a gentle banter to your wheedling, making him chuckle. The aged lines around his kind eyes crinkle as he smiles a bit, reaching up to appreciate your features gently with his thumb. 

For a man that’s well into his thirties, Andy feels foolish for feeling so shy. Not for the first time that night since seeing you, the insecurity gnaws at him again. Doubt starts to eat at him again as he realizes this is the first time in a long time he’s properly been with a woman. Or was it the voice of his brother, taunting his inability to keep a woman around? 

“I’d…like to see you again.” His words roll off as if he’s considering them like a fine wine, “If you want to, that is.” 

The look you’re giving him makes him blush. He thinks you’re going to plant one right on him, but instead he’s pleasantly surprised when you softly and slow kiss his bearded cheek several times. 

“You can see me as many times as you like, Barber.” You tell him in between kisses. First on his brow bone, then his cheek again before planting another soft kiss on the tip of his nose. He rolls over so you’re resting on top of him this time, unable to keep himself from beaming at you, his eyes twinkling. 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah, I’ve got a good feeling about you.” 

The next kiss you pull from him leaves him breathless. It’s not heated, but it’s slow and soft and enticing all at the same time. His heart beats like a drum, pulling you closer to him as he breathes you in like he needed the energy only you could give him.  
  
The two of you stay like that for a while longer until he pulls away, pushing your shoulder gently so you’re on your back again. You raise a quizzical brow as he makes it seem like he’s about to leave the bed, but your bitten and swollen lips curl into a smirk when he kisses his way down your body before disappearing beneath the bedsheets to spend some time kissing you down there again. 

After that night, Andy resolved to take you out on a proper date. Soon enough, the first date turned into a second one, and then into a third. It eventually bled into many other dates, and before either of you really knew it, a couple of years as a couple had flown by. 

Andy was more in love than he had ever been in his entire life, he was sure. You were everything he wanted in someone, and the fact that he felt privileged to wake up next to you every day never failed to make his chest swell with all the love and pride he had for you. You were his endgame. He saw no future without you in it. 

At some point in your relationship with him, he met your family. Well, it was more of your chosen family since you were pretty much on your own. If he thought you were picky with your company, they were even more so. But your friends were only looking out for you, and after receiving their blessing, he felt confident in purchasing the ring he had his eyes on all those weeks ago. 

Ever the prideful man, Andy wanted to make sure that asking you to spend the rest of your life with him would be an event that you’d never forget. Considering that it was part of his job to keep secrets, it was amusing to him that it took a special kind of herculean restraint not to reveal what the dinner date plans were really about. He had been planning it for weeks, down to the last detail. He even had a whole hand written speech tucked into somewhere you’d never look. 

But when you called him, still stuck at work and letting him know that he’d have to cancel dinner plans, he tried so hard not to feel dejected. It’s not like you cancelled plans with him on purpose. They were always your favorite part of the week since you started dating him. He couldn’t help but feel proud of how hard you were working. Besides, he could just reschedule for another time. 

But one reschedule turned into another and then another, until Andy decided it was just the best thing to hold off on making the grand reveal. It seemed like life, work, or even both were determined to block him from making you his forever. Soon enough, he gets caught up in the whirlwind of fuckery at work just like you, and for the next several weeks the both of you find yourselves in the shared flat working late nights with several pots of coffee and takeout containers filling in for the times neither one of you could be bothered to cook. He had offered pizza once, and you had flat out refused because it just wasn’t the same as back home. 

It’s another late night of the two of you working on your separate cases. The both of you are so close to the end, nearly tasting victory. Seeing as the two of you were whirlwinds of organized work chaos, there’s stacks of papers in between other papers littered about, everything color coded carefully so as not to confuse which belonged to who. 

Andy’s stressed to all hell, if he was being quite honest. He’s looming over his papers for what seemed like the umpteenth time with a crease in his brows. He hasn’t taken a break for hours and neither have you. He hasn’t had much of a chance to look at you despite how enticing you looked wearing just a pair of black cotton panties and his old Oasis band tee that you claimed as your security blanket even when he was around. 

His concentration breaks when you let out a moan as you arch your back, stretching your arms out above you while rolling your neck to work out the kinks. He finally looks down at you from his position on the couch, when you use his knee as a brace to stand up from your sitting position on the hardwood floor, declaring that you’d be making another pot of coffee for the both of you. It probably wasn’t a good idea after already having consumed three other pots beforehand, but the two of you were determined to get this shit over with. If you were going to stay up late working yet again, so was he. The two of you were a team in more ways than one. 

You pad around the kitchen barefooted, letting the coffee maker do its thing as the time blinks half past eleven pm. Andy usually took his coffee with just a spoonful of sugar, but you preferred oatmilk in yours in addition to the sugar. You don’t really think about the mugs you pick out for the both of you, it’s a natural type of selection since you always put them in the same place and nowhere else. If they went missing, you’d know about it. 

Bringing over the two mugs of coffee, you ask Andy to scoot over a bit so you can sit comfortably with your legs on his lap. He takes the chipped mug from you without really looking, mumbling a small thank you as he sipped while his mind whirled away looking over the papers. Cradling your mug of coffee in one hand, your other one reaches up to play with his hair that was in definite need of a haircut. 

“Let’s take a break, honey.” You suggest, continuing to play with his hair. You can tell how hard he’s working, seeing how determined he is to get everything over with but not before making sure his case was airtight. Determined to get him to relax at least a little, you use your nails to slightly scratch his scalp. “Did you wanna talk to me about what you’ve got? Maybe you need a different set of eyes.” 

Andy starts to tell you what details he can about the case, absentmindedly sipping away at the coffee in between your observations. He goes to take another sip before realizing it’s empty, and that’s when he realizes the mug you gave him is the chipped one. 

Andy looks at the chipped enamel of the coffee mug and remembers the incident like it was yesterday. It had been the morning after he first came over that night all those years ago. He wanted to be the one to make coffee for the both of you, so he made his way to the kitchen before you woke up. He cursed himself from being unable to stop the mug from falling from his hand onto the counter, effectively chipping it. It was the only other mug besides the blue one emblazoned with the iconic “we are happy to serve you” slogan. Clearly he had been loud enough with the whole ordeal that it woke you up, for which he apologizes, but you simply shrug it off and give him the good morning kiss. 

You hadn’t stopped drinking coffee out of it ever since then, at least when he wasn’t using it. 

He hums, running a finger over the chipped lip of the mug. He’s never said it himself, but it’s been his favorite mug ever since that night. 

“How come you gave me this one?” 

“Is there something wrong with that one?” 

“No, no. Just figured you’d throw it out by now.” He adds, and you hum. 

“Well I can’t very well throw out my favorite mug.” The endearing cheesiness of it all makes him chuckle, even more so when you don’t look at him when you tell him why it’s your favorite. “You drank out of that one after you first came over, but I feel like it has a bit of your magic. Your luck, y’know?” 

You continue, finding that playing with Andy’s hair was something that relaxed you as much as it did for him. You weren’t always the best at verbally expressing your feelings, something he learned long ago. Physical touch was more of your language.  
  
“I drink out that mug and find myself lucky. I win every case, my days are much brighter. It feels like you’re with me even if you’re really not. And I…just want you to have a little bit of that fortune you’ve brought into my life.” 

You’re not usually so emotional around Andy, at least not verbally. You’ve always been an actions over words kind of person, because they carried more meaning for you. Whenever you did express your feelings verbally, they quite literally made Andy speechless. To anyone else, it would’ve seemed like a mismatch. But you were the calm to his storm, and you wouldn’t be comfortable being like this around anyone else besides Andy. He gave you the security and the safe space your emotions needed, and never once had he invalidated them or how you chose to express them.

Andy turns his head to look at you, still sipping on the lukewarm coffee while toying with strands of his hair around your fingers. All at once, he’s consumed with the feeling that he suddenly knows everything he’s ever needed to know. Nights like this, the two of you working together. Days too, where the sunlight peeked through the little bit that the blackout curtains didn’t cover and casted that little strip of glow across your bronzed skin, letting him see the freckles that he loved to kiss good morning before he moved onto your lips. Building a life with you, little by little, every single day for the rest of his life. This was it. 

You were it. There was no other. Not now, not ever. 

“Look at me, honey.” He coos softly, voice a little gravelly from all the caffeine he’d been drinking the entire night. He knows you heard him because he’s looking at the way you’re nervously nibbling on your bottom lip with your teeth, a nervous habit of yours. 

Andy leans over to take the mug of coffee from your hand and places it alongside his on top of the papers. It didn’t matter, nor did he care, if coffee rings formed on the papers. This moment, and what it means to him, means way too much for him to give a single shit about anything else.  
  
It’s not often that you’re nervous like this around Andy. You avoid looking at him still, your heart beating like it’s gearing up to march out of your chest. This time, he’s the one to capture your attention with his eyes instead of the other way around. His big, warm hand reaches up to cradle your jaw, thumb softly pulling your bottom lip until your teeth let go of them. Your eyes focus on the thumb that gently caresses it, unable to resist the temptation of gently kissing the softness of it. He hums, a short chortle escaping him. It’s what finally has you looking at him, the weight of all the words better left unsaid crackling with an electric kind of love. 

You don’t resist him when he leans forward to kiss you. In fact, you welcome him wholeheartedly. Kissing him always felt like the first time–magnetic, enthralling, yet this time there’s this unspoken comfort to it, much like an old sweater of his or the lingering scent of your shampoo on the pillows.  
  
Andy brackets your waist with his hands as you wrap your arms around his shoulders, and you easily straddle his lap. There’s a momentary giggle from the both of you, short and sweet kisses until he slides his hands down and firmly grabs your butt, making you feel the excitement you were giving him. Another kiss that leaves you both breathless and breathing each other in all at once. 

Yours in an all consuming passion, and he wants to have it forever. 

A small whine passes your lips when he pulls away from you, making him chuckle. You rest your forehead against his as you hug him closer to you, wrapping your legs around his waist. His stormy ocean eyes make you uneasy in the best kind of way. You loved it when he looked at you like this. 

“What are you thinking about, Andrew?” You tease, pressing a small kiss to his nose. 

“I’m thinking about making you my wife.” 

“You’re serious?” You feel a little bewildered, but not necessarily in a bad way. The topic had come up once a long time ago, after it was made very clear to him that you wouldn’t change your last name even if you were married to royalty. It was a non negotiable. 

“Deadly so.” 

His hands move to your thighs where he rubs soothing circles on them, sensing your nerves. He was always so in tune with what you felt. 

“But I’m already yours, for good.” 

Marriage with Andy seemed like a dream, especially when things already seemed pretty permanent between the two of you. But who were you kidding? There was that part of you that loved it when Andy showed you off at any place the two of you were together, and being able to do that as his wife gave you a special kind of thrill. 

“I know. But I had this whole thing planned for months after I met your friends, and things just got crazy and I put it on the back burner. I wanted to make it a really special moment for y–”  
  
He’s interrupted by one of your all consuming kisses, the first one of many for the night. It’s not a delicate one either. It’s all teeth and tongue and moans and desperation to pull off whatever you both had on. You mumble what seems like a thousand ways to say yes with each kiss, never parting from his lips. Not even when he lifted his hips slightly to pull the sweatpants off half way, stroking himself as you pull your underwear aside and let him bottom out in you, pulling shuddering gasps from his chest and yours. 

“I’m yours, Andy.” You babble in between the open mouth kisses, nails digging into his powerful arms. God, he felt so good being inside of you, always filling you up so good like only he knew how. “You feel like fucking iron.” 

“That’s right.” He growls into your neck, holding you as close as he could as he moved his hips to meet yours, “All mine, just mine, forever.”  
  


It was towards the fall that you and Andy were finally able to make time to get married. As close as you both were to friends and coworkers, both of you decided it was for the best to avoid the cluster fuck of planning a wedding and just elope. 

That’s how the both of you found yourselves in Milan for the next two weeks, staying at a bed and breakfast owned by a local _nonna_ that adored the bones of you and Andy. She prepared breakfast every morning, chattering with you about many things in her broken English. You initially told Andy you didn’t understand a word of Italian once, but he figured you were bullshitting him when he caught you and the nonna shit talking about the soap opera you got sucked into watching with her the first night there. 

The wedding was beautiful in every way. The nonna served as a witness to the simple yet elegant wedding that took place in the town hall. Her oldest son, a priest, officiated the wedding in both languages. The nonna’s daughter in law served as a makeshift videographer, since you and him wanted to have something to remember the event by. Her son was a professional photographer, so he ended up taking most of the pictures that immortalized the event. The pictures were quite endearing. There were a few pictures of Andy blubbering when he saw you walk to him on your own, then of you wiping his tears with your thumb. There were countless others, including the one of him kissing your palm with his eyes closed, taking you in before placing a kiss on top of the matching golden band that now joined the marquise cut diamond ring. 

Back at the nonna’s property, she had surprised you with quite a feast. The two of you got quite attached to her and her family, so she ended up inviting them, and they spent the entire day and night celebrating you both. There was lots of drinking and an even bigger amount of food, most of which you managed to wrangle the recipes for from the nonna. At some point, Andy got ensconced into a conversation with the few guys that spoke English, and you with the women, giving you marriage advice in Italian. 

Even from opposite sides of the celebration, Andy felt the strangest comforting dejavu when you locked eyes with him just like you did when you first met. 

After the two weeks in Italy, Andy and you returned to a sort of chaos at the office. Neither one of you had disclosed the reason as to why you had gone on paid time off, but when everyone put two and two together after seeing the matching wedding bands and your engagement ring, they went absolutely feral. 

The office celebration lasted for about half a day until the whirlwind of cases saw everyone holed up in meetings and depositions again. The newness of it all still hadn’t worn off for you or Andy, and you often found yourselves playing with the rings somehow. You catch yourself sporting a dopey smile, feeling weightless when it’s just you in your office, surrounded by expensive degrees and mountains of case files waiting to be catalogued by your assistant. 

You’re broken out of your daze when your personal phone goes off, and again there’s that stupid smile when you see Husband flash across the photo designated as his contact picture. 

“Hello, husband.” You purr cradling the phone to your ear. Andy’s warm chuckle gives you shivers. 

“Hello, love.” He replies amorously, “Am I interrupting anything? I’ve got something to ask you.” 

“No, not at all.” A quick glance out into the hallway confirms it, “What’s happened? D’you miss me?” 

“You? Always.” There’s a moment of silence where you can hear him lean back into the leather office chair that creaked under the weight of him, “Remember those announcements we sent out?” 

Oh, you remember them. The nonna’s grandson had taken the most beautiful portrait of you and Andy in the garden of the property. Andy sat on the little steps leading up to the small fountain, while you were situated beside him, resting your side on his legs, one arm around your back with a hand resting on your shoulder and the other free hand holding yours. The two of you were absolutely beaming at each other. The rings could clearly be seen, along with the words _**Just Married / Novelli Sposi**_ emblazoned in swirling script at the bottom in shimmering gold ink. There were a select few that had been sent out to family back home. It was equally a memento for you both as it was a formal announcement for those that had been asking. 

Well, it was mostly Andy’s family that had been asking. They hadn’t heard from him in a long time, and you knew why. Andy’s relationship with his family, especially his twin brother, wasn’t news to you. The cost of him cutting off his brother bled into the cost of him losing contact with his parents and other family, something he never meant to happen but that’s how life had worked out. You supported the decision that Andy had made in not letting them know about you when you dated, and even more so when elopement was decided to be the best for both of you. Not everyone needed to know everything about your lives together. 

“Something happened?” You glance to the window, pursing your lips when a few flurries of snow started to descend even more. “Andrew…” You wheedle, knowing that he was keeping something from you. 

“Oh why is it always you saying my full name when I’m in trouble, huh?” He lets out a tired sigh that pulls at your heart, “My parents wanted to know if we can visit for Christmas.” 

He’s answered by silence. 

“We don’t have to stay the week, like they want.” He adds quickly, “Maybe a couple of days? I haven’t spoken to them in years and I…want to tell them about the best part of my life.”  
  
Well when he put it like that, how could you say no? 

“If that’s what you want, baby, then we can go.” A glance through at your calendar confirms you and him can spare to take some time off. “What about your um…”  
  
“I doubt he’ll probably show up.” You can practically hear the tension from the other line as he sighs, “I don’t think he’d even bother.”  
  
“If you’re comfortable with going, then so am I. You know we’re a team.”  
  
“I love you. I’ll take care of everything, okay?” 

To say he was nervous was an understatement. 

As Ransom pulls up in the driveway of his parent’s house, he narrows his eyes, unable to believe what he is witnessing. The front of the house had been decorated in all sorts of Christmas lights, something they hadn’t done in years, and there was catering going into the house. Catering? Of all things? 

His mom didn’t even like hosting her sister in law for dinner. 

He sits there in the parked car, wondering what the fuck was happening so early in the morning to merit such a mess. He rolls his eyes, shoveling out of the car and practically inviting himself through the open door of the house. His mouth falls open, watching the inside be as decorated as the outside, catering and decorating staff moving like an army of ants and setting up everything as if they were inviting royalty over for dinner. 

He follows the source of the noise to the kitchen, where he finds his parents. His dad is directing where things need to be set up and his mom is pulling the _good_ wine out of the pantry. 

“Want to tell me what’s going on here?” He asks, stealing a biscoff cookie leftover from this morning and popping it into his mouth, “Why does it look like we’re inviting the fucking Queen of England? You guys don’t even decorate for the holidays.” 

Ransom’s father rolls his eyes at his son’s crass manner of speaking, making room for his wife to pass through to place not one, but two bottles of the good wine to air out on the counter. 

Who the fuck deserved two bottles of Sassicaia? 

“We kept trying to reach you since forever ago, but your brother is on the way here to stay the night with his wife!” His mom gushed, practically shoving the marriage announcement into his hands. 

Ransom chews slowly, quizzical look clear as day on his face directed to his mother and then at the card in his hand. His eyes boggle slightly, putting down the second cookie he was about to eat and make sure he wasn’t looking at some joke. 

His older brother, married? To a woman that looked like royalty? When had he even dated? 

“H-he…married? When the fuck did he even date?” 

“Ransom!” His mom always hated that he cursed. 

“Did you even know he was dating?” He asked, smoothly ignoring her question. 

His father sighs in defeat, placing his hands on the counter. 

“We didn’t know anything, not for a long time, not until recently.” He answered, “Besides, when he cut you off for stealing his last girlfriend, he cut us off too.” 

“So please behave this time.” His mother added, eyes narrowing at him, “We still have a while until they arrive, so make yourself useful.” 

Ransom rolls his eyes and then glances at the card in his hand, turning it this way and that. He looks at your beaming expression directed to Andy, who looked absolutely smitten. He had to admit, at least you were significantly more good looking than any of his previous conquests. And the ring? He knew his brother made a lot of money as a lawyer, but even he had to admit he was thoroughly impressed with the size of the diamond. He smirks to himself a kernel of an idea forming in his head. 

Oh, this was going to be fun. 

By the time you and Andy pull up into the driveway of his old family home, you can practically feel the tension rolling off him in waves. 

Before even leaving hours before, you had double checked with Andy to make sure if he was still alright with staying the night at his parents house. Andy hated going back on his word, and despite his gut feeling, insisted on visiting his parents and staying the night. It had been too long since he last saw them for him to suddenly change his mind. 

“Andy, baby.” You grimace a little seeing his spooked reaction when you touch his shoulder, “We’ll be okay. Whatever happens, I’ve got your back, okay?” 

“I know.” He kisses the top of your hand gently, looking at you with thankful eyes, “Nothing they say or do is going to change my mind about you.” 

“You better not. The prenup was very expensive.” 

The joke makes the both of you laugh and alleviate his stress somewhat, and it melts away when you lean over to give him an encouraging kiss. After one last check to make sure you both looked presentable, you shuffle out of the Audi. He gets the bag that holds everything you’d need to stay for the night, walking over to hold your hand in his before walking to the front door. 

Andy lets out a sigh he knew he was holding in for far too long. He raises a hand to knock on the door. 

It was now or never. 

From his position as he leans against the threshold of the living room, Ransom is glowering at the decorations littering his family home. He felt like he was walking on eggshells ever since he got there, and what’s worse, his mom wouldn’t even let him into the kitchen to grab a pack of biscoff cookies. 

He was starving in more ways than one. 

He decided to indulge his mother in dressing nicely. For once, he managed to find a sweater that didn’t have holes in it, no matter how much he liked wearing them because he could always replace them anyway. 

Bored out of his mind, he’s picking at some random decorations on the tree. His parents were hovering in the hallway by the door like some sort of helicopters. Before any one of them even knows it, the doorbell goes off, and it sends his mother scurrying to open the door like she was panicking for their arrival. 

There’s a flurry of voices and noises that have him peeking his head around, and his eyes nearly boggle out of his head for the third time that day. 

_Not bad, Andy. Not bad at all._

There’s a flurry of greetings and footsteps that make the floorboards creak slightly, but your voice rings out in a small laugh before noting how it adds charm to the house. It makes Ransom stand up straighter when he hears the footsteps get closer to where he was, and suddenly the conversation dies down. 

There’s a low chortle from him, knowing his parents wouldn’t have told Andy about him if it risked him cancelling. He doesn’t look up, pretending to be interested in the intricacies of the expensive, especially grown pine tree. 

Andy’s eyes look between his brother and his parents, trying to think of an appropriate reaction. His hackles are raised, panic slowly bleeding into his mood. He looks at you when you squeeze his hand gently, a knowing smile that only he could recognize. He knows you’re with him forever, but sometimes it’s just nice to be reminded of that fact. 

“Brother! Glad to see you, finally. How long has it been?” Ransom’s eyes glimmered mischievously, opening his arms wide as he walked over. He brought Andy into an awkward hug that your husband did not return, and then Ransom turned his attention to you. 

“Who’s the special lady?” He asks, satisfied with the smile you give him. Andy didn’t like it, not one bit. Not even when you giggle in that way he loves and you introduce yourself to his brother, shaking his hand a little too firmly. 

“Ooh, a feisty one.” He chuckles, ignoring Andy’s eagle eyed scrutiny. 

There’s a bit of an awkward silence that follows Ransom’s comment but luckily it was smoothly ignored when their mother showed you and Andy the room you’d be staying for the night. She left the two of you to rest for a bit as there was still a bit of time left for dinner. 

You mumble, letting out an appreciative sigh as Andy rubbed your shoulders with body wash. The two of you decided that a tandem shower was best to wash off some of the travel sweat and anxiety, literal and otherwise. Neither of you really made a comment about the little situation with Ransom, but you knew how uncomfortable it made Andy. 

A little kernel of an idea popped into your head, part of which involved relaxing Andy the best way you knew how. 

“Honey?” He croaked out, watching you kneel down in front of him with a smirk on your face. He shudders when you place a soft kiss to his thigh and a lick right above where he wants your lips, gently shushing him. 

Needless to say, the two of you were a little later to Christmas dinner that night. 

The dinner went by surprisingly Ransom-shenanigan free. 

Despite the fact that you could definitely tell Andy’s brother was absolutely checking you out and sizing you up, you were relatively unbothered. He was surprisingly active during the conversations, and for once Andy didn’t feel like he was ready to punch Ransom in the face for stealing his girlfriend. It’s not like he could anyway, you made Andy remember that fact all the time in your own ways. 

Andy and Ransom’s parents were a dream to get along with, and they couldn’t stop gushing over how perfect the two of you looked together. Anyone else might’ve missed it, but you noticed the way Ransom rolled his eyes as he sipped on the expensive imported wine. 

To the surprise of everyone, Ransom had suggested that he would like to go to dinner with Andy and yourself before the two of you would make your way back home. He wasn’t exactly known for his generosity, but somehow you were the least bit shocked out of everyone there. 

Andy already knew what his answer would have been had it been left up to him, but seeing how nothing out of the ordinary had happened, he looked to you for the final say. Your comfort was always the most important to him. 

“I don’t see why not.” You all but purr, giving Ransom a knowing look. 

He really thought he knew what he was getting into with you. 

For some reason he couldn’t place, Ransom felt a little uneasy. On edge, if you will. 

There was no way he could deny to himself that the second he set eyes on you, he felt an immediate attraction to you. Whether or not you felt the same, was another story to be discovered. You had to have at least found him attractive, right? What had Andy told you about him, about their familial relationship that had you looking at him like you were ready to eat him alive? 

In comparison to all of Andy’s previous girlfriends, you clearly blew all of them out of the water. Ransom was normally not the kind of guy to care about this sort of thing, but you? You were a different story. You carried yourself differently, with a kind of weightless grace that people were either born with or simply didn’t have. A career woman, someone who he could dare say would be seen as Andy’s equal at work if not more. He could tell that you had a bit of a dominant streak in you, especially when he looked at the way Andy lavished you with the consistent adoration. You and your husband moved together like a well oiled machine, like having known each other for decades despite the relatively short amount of years together. 

He had never seen his brother more in love, and it was starting to get to him. But he knew it would get to his older brother even more if he managed to get you eating out of his hand. 

Was he jealous? Absolutely. Despite their comfortable wealth, Andy always acted like it was a disdainful thing. It was never his money but his family’s money, he’d always lecture. It was something that made Ransom roll his eyes. He fucking hated it when his brother acted so righteous. Who could even stand to be around him with him being like that all the time? Clearly you must’ve liked it somehow. 

“Oh, you’re here on time for once.” 

Ransom’s brows crinkle when he hears your voice, and he’s ready with an equally teasing quip. But his throat goes dry the second he sees you. You’re in a knee length black dress that hugs those curves he’s sure Andy’s had the pleasure of worshipping frequently. The mock turtleneck look of the dress makes your jaw look sharp enough to cut someone, connected to the rest of the dress by way of a transparent black fabric. His eyes float down to the slit that starts at your knee and nearly stops right at your waist. He clearly had no shame taking his time appreciating the way you looked, imagining how one slight move could reveal whether or not you were wearing anything underneath. 

“Didn’t notice those before.” He quips, nodding to the nipple piercings poking against the fabric of the dress just so. “No bra?” 

“You’re awful.” You chortle, slotting yourself into the seat across from him. A quick glance around let you know that he had chosen a private booth, the expensive wooden table lined with an even more expensive table linen that gave enough privacy for what you had in mind. 

_Perfect,_ you think. 

“No husband either?” 

“He’s looking for parking.” You say, easily judging Ransom’s choice for beer. You flag down the waiter, quickly ordering three Old Fashioneds with such a smile on your face that the waitress walked away blushing and giggling. 

It takes Ransom a moment to process that little interaction before he finally looks at you again. The glint of your sizable engagement ring glints enough to catch his attention, and he reaches over to gently cradle your hand with his unsurprisingly softer ones. He turns your hand this way and that, gently rubbing your knuckles. 

“I would’ve gone bigger, if I were you.” 

“I didn’t take your for the marriage type, Hugh.” 

That makes him do a double take. How did you even know his first name? Not even his brother referred to him as such. He scoffs under his breath, deciding to ignore it. 

“Did he overcompensate for what he’s lacking with this?” 

“Oh, not at all.” You all but purr, easily taking your hand back once the waitress came back to hand over the drinks. 

“Are we still waiting on one more, or are we ready to order?” She asks, notepad and pen ready in her hands. 

“We’re waiting on one more but I can order for him.” You order an extra spicy pasta diavolo and medium rare New York steak and roasted potatoes for Andy. Ransom decides on the duck confit and fries. He watches how giggly and frazzled the waitress becomes when your fingers subtly touch hers as she’s taking the menus back, reminding mostly you that the food would be out shortly and walking away with another smile on her face. 

“I can see why Andy would like you enough to marry you.” Ransom chuckles, leaning back comfortably against the plush leather seat. “You’re one of those women.” 

You raise an eyebrow as you take a sip of your drink, as if asking him to elaborate on his words. 

“I just mean a woman who can get anything, or anyone she wants. That’s all.” He chuckles and puts his hands up in a joking defensive stance. He abandons the lukewarm beer he no longer wanted anyway, humming in approval when he tastes the Old Fashioneds you had ordered. 

Just as the food is served, Andy comes in. He greets you with a generous kiss before he even sits down, greeting Ransom only just on the other side of icy. He gives you another smile, nodding in thanks for knowing his drink and dinner order so well. 

Dinner went by surprisingly well. Maybe it was the alcohol playing a major part in the two men getting along exceedingly well, or maybe it had been you carrying most of the conversation, but this had been the most the two brothers had talked in such a long time, like no animosity had existed between them. In his alcohol induced kindness, Andy hadn’t even cared that Ransom couldn’t seem to stop complimenting you. 

“I must say, brother, you really blew me away when you introduced such a _fine_ wife.” He praises with a slight slap to his forearm, but his equally as stormy eyes were all on you. 

“Isn’t she? I love everything about her.” Andy praised, wrapping an arm around your waist, hand resting just over your hip where he rubbed little circles with his thumb. He looks to you with that happy drunk smile you love, “Truly, I don’t know how I got so lucky to wake up with her every single day.” 

“Oh stop it, you ass kisser.” Your giggle is soft, a hand softly placed on his chest just under the lapel of his jacket. Your lips place a pillowy kiss on his jaw, enjoying the way his arm that’s around your waist tightens as his fingers dig into your hip a little. You adjust yourself in the seat a little, tucking yourself into Andy’s embrace more securely. 

Ransom watches the whole romantic borderline sexy exchange in front of him, shaking his head as he pops another confit soaked fry into his mouth. At first, he thought that the little nudge he felt against his leg might’ve been accidental. But his chewing slows down, becoming more thoughtful when he realizes it wasn’t a mistake. He ducks his head, trying to concentrate on his meal when he hears the gentle scuff of you removing a Taro Ishida heel from your foot, daring to touch him again, going higher. 

Not for the first time since Ransom saw you that night, his throat goes dry at the realization of what you’re doing. He coughs, feeling like something’s in his throat even though there really wasn’t, and his eyes nearly boggle out of his head when Andy seems none the wiser. 

Were you like this with other people? Did Andy even know? 

“Something wrong?” Andy asks, chewing on the last piece of steak from his plate. 

Ransom’s knuckles nearly went white with how tightly he was gripping his drink. When the waitress came back around to collect the empty plates and ask if dessert was an option, he narrowed his eyes with the way you answered her smoothly. She had suggested tiramisu to share. 

“Oh, that sounds wonderful.” You accept her suggestion happily, all but rolling your next words like a fine wine. “I’m absolutely _famished_ for some dessert.” 

Ransom could swear to whatever god decided to torture him that night that his soul was ready to escape his body. He wonders if that look you were currently giving him, all feline like and ready to devour him, was one that Andy got every now and again. He groans lowly when he feels your foot rub the side of his knee softly, and he has half a mind to flip the table over and storm out of the damn place the further it travels. 

He really would’ve enjoyed dessert had you not been so preoccupied with torturing him under the table. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go for fuck’s sake, he thinks. He’s aggravated, wondering how he let the control of the situation slip away from him like it did. 

The flushed color that suddenly consumes his cheeks comes back nearly as quickly as the color initially drained from his face when he feels the way you tease the zipper of his pants with your toes. He coughs again, this time loudly. 

“You should drink something, Ransom.” Had he known any better, he would’ve thought you were being doting on him, but the stormy look in your eyes gave away a darker, more commanding look entirely. 

“I’m fi–” A flash of dominance in your eyes tells Ransom all he needs to know, and he takes a sip of the last drops of the Old Fashioned. If you wanted to play, he could go toe to toe. He pulls at the collar of his sweater slightly, leaning back comfortably and deciding that talking about something else entirely would be a good distraction from the hard on he was currently sporting. 

_Thank god for the fucking tablecloth_. He grumbles mentally, letting his hand drift underneath. From yours and Andy’s side, it looked like he was resting his hand on his leg. But you simply hum, pretending to acknowledge something Andy said in response to something else Ransom said. 

You could feel Ransom’s fingers around your ankle, how his fingers caressed circles that were enough to harden your pierced nipples. There was a different kind of tango going on now, an electrified energy ready to crackle and burst with the way you two were playing with each other. When he spreads his legs discreetly, his smirk to you gives him away to Andy. 

“You’re being bad again, aren’t you?” Andy tucks his face into your hair, whispering dangerously into your ear. 

Ransom’s hold on your ankle loosens. Did he hear right? When the fuck had you done this kind of thing before? How had Andy been okay with it? There was no fucking way he could’ve been okay with his wife doing this to other people, much less his twin brother of all. There was no way his older brother could be turned on by the fact that his wife was doing something she technically wasn’t supposed to right in front of him! 

_Irony, thy name is Ransom._

“But baby…” God, that pout and wheedling tone you used on Andy always did him in, always made him malleable to what you wanted him to do. Ransom wondered how many times you got away with anything with that look. He swallows thickly as he lowers his zipper, groaning when he feels your foot stroking him again. The only thing separating him from you was the black briefs underneath, but god did this feel good. None of his previous conquests did something like this. They were always too shy, too meek. But not you. Oh no. He didn’t have to wonder very much about the kinds of depraved things you probably indulged in with your husband, all of a sudden wishing he would’ve been the one instead. Wishing he could’ve been the marrying type if you fucked him the way you definitely fucked Andy.

Your concentration on torturing Ransom is broken when you feel Andy’s calloused fingers dance along the high slit of your dress. They sneak their way underneath, and almost in an uncharacteristic way, you close your legs, tucking your face into his neck while trying to do away with the uncomfortable pressure between your legs. 

“Open your legs, baby.” He croons into your ear, lips caressing the shell of it as his fingers slowly tried to open you up to him. “Let me see what you’ve got under there. You didn’t let me see you get dressed before we left. Was it all a surprise for him?” 

_Holy Fuck_ , Ransom thought, groaning as he encouraged you to rub his cock further. He wasn’t supposed to be so turned on the way he was, but he couldn’t help it. He wasn’t being reprimanded, for once. 

You whine a little and breathe into your husband’s neck when he tightens his hold on the inside of your thigh, obligating your body to open itself to him. You let out a sigh, thankful for the privacy afforded to you by the wealth held between the three of you. Andy’s fingers tease your folds, coating them more in your arousal. 

“You’re not wearing anything, honey.” He groans, teasingly slipping a thick finger inside. The welcomed intrusion makes you rock your hips slightly, wanting more. But he tuts at you, scolding the sudden neediness you felt. “Does teasing my brother turn you on, hon? Is this what you had in mind when we talked in the car?”  
  
“Andy…” You whisper hoarsely, trying to regain some sort of balance of power here. “Andy, baby, please…” 

Andy chuckles, enjoying how your mouth falling open feels against his neck as he slips another finger inside. He licks his lips as your walls tighten around his fingers, indulging into your whim and thrusts them into you slowly. The way his fingers feel inside you is amazing as they always feel, but something about having your husband fuck you with his fingers while you’re giving the bane of his existence a footjob did something else to you entirely. 

He looks over to his twin across the table, revelling in how tortured he looks. He shouldn’t enjoy as much as he does, but remembering how long he spent having to go through all of his girlfriends being stolen from right under him? The way you felt so fucking good clenching and thrusting slowly around his fingers? Yeah, a special kind of cockiness bloomed in his chest. He knew he deserved this moment.

“You see that, Ransom?” He growls loud enough to catch his attention, “Even when she’s fucking with you, she’s still mine. It doesn’t matter how much you turn her on, because at the end of the day _I_ get to enjoy her. _I_ get to fuck her, because she’s mine and _only_ mine. You don’t get to take anyone away from me anymore.”  
  
 _So that’s what all this is about._ If Ransom could laugh loudly at the literal fuckery going on, he would, but it would attract attention and certainly the two of you didn’t need to have. So his brother had told you about all his antics from their younger years, and all of this had been a way for you to exact payback on Andy’s behalf. 

“So this is what it’s all about, huh?” He chuckles dryly, “Can’t stand all that shit I did to you? Danglin’ something I want right in front of me knowing I can’t have shit? Really, Andy, I thought better of you.” 

As good as Andy’s fingers felt in you, something about Ransom’s sneering tone towards your husband made you snap back and turn your attention to him again. You narrowed your eyes at the gloating man in front of you, and you knew the ferocity in your eyes was something to be reckoned with judging by the way he visibly recoiled. He knew he pissed you **off**. 

“The difference between you and my husband, my dear, is that you sell yourself out to anyone that’ll fucking care to deign themselves to even listen to you.” You hiss, mostly because you felt the way the pressure inside your stomach was building with the way Andy rolled your clit between his index finger and his thumb. You reach across the table and grip Ransom’s smooth, perfectly shaved jaw with your fingers, smushing his lips together. “Nobody gives a single fuck about what you have to offer.”  
  
Ransom snatches his face out of your hand, growling at you and how you dared to touch him the way you did. He didn’t care how rude you were being to him. The only thing that mattered to him in the moment was that he wanted to come so badly more than he had ever wanted to in his life. This banter between you and him kept stroking his fire hotter, but he didn’t realize just how dangerous it was getting the more he kept playing with yours. 

“So you got a mouth on you too, huh? Figured my brother would be into brats like you.” 

You chuckle heartily, throwing your head back. The motion pushed your breasts up and out against the fabric of your dress, shamelessly showing yourself off. When you look at Ransom again, it’s with this sort of disinterest that he can’t quite place. 

_Fuck. **Fuck!**_ He thinks desperately, knowing he was losing you, and quickly. 

You move in a way that makes Andy’s fingers reluctantly exit your soaking folds. As much as you wanted to come right then and there, you didn’t want to give Ransom the privilege of watching your euphoria playing out right in front of him, freely consumed by his greedy eyes when he had done nothing to actually deserve it. You place your hands on the table as you stand up, towering over the cocky brunette and glowering at him with a venomous ferocity he had never seen before. His breath hitches when he feels your breath against the side of his ear, groaning when you lightly lick the shell of it. 

“At least I know I don’t have to fake an orgasm with my husband, not like all those girls have to do with you, baby.” You coo threateningly as you nuzzled the side of his face, lightly tracing his ear. “You’re never going to fucking see me come, ever.” 

For the first time in his life, Ransom swears he could sob like a wild animal. He’s never been denied anything in his life. He’s always been able to take, take, and take from anything and anyone without any consequences. Yet here you were, not only dangled in front of him like the ultimate fantasy of his sexual desires, but he couldn’t even have you. He literally couldn’t fucking have you, and his brother of all people, the last person he expected to come out the winner on the other side of his perpetual feud had won. 

Ransom was playing checkers while you were playing fucking chess the entire time, and he never saw it coming. 

He could only watch, soaked in a sour and dark mood of a ruined orgasm he’ll never get to fix, as you and Andy moved like the absolute unit the two of you were out of the private booth. You adjusted yourself like nothing had happened in the last god knows how many minutes, instantly and naturally tucking yourself into Andy’s side. The hand that hadn’t been inside you just now placed on your back, while the other one was licked clean of your arousal. 

“Tastes better than anything.” Andy gloats, taking the liberty of at least giving that bit of information to his brother for free. He’ll just have to sit there with the imagination of you, his mind forever burned with the torture of an imagination gone unrealized. 

The two of you walked away from the table easily, smiling at each other like you and him usually would. As proud and as in love of each other you both had been since that first day. 

_Check._

_Mate._


End file.
